


Love is found in Rare places, in the world.

by jxtxadore



Series: Prompts [8]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, Cute, Depression mention, Explicit Chapter 13, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Longing, M/M, Multi, Off Screen Death, Off screen divorce, Off-screen Relationship(s), Polyamory, Sexting, Trans Male Character, chap two, explicit chapter 12, play fights, smut will be warned, there's going to be smut... Eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxtxadore/pseuds/jxtxadore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a massing of my rarepair stories, there will be drabbles that vary from under 1000 words to maybe over 5000. Enjoy as you will; Prompts and pairings will be at the beginning of each chapter. If you've a prompt, please mention it in a comment.</p><p>This is all hetalia rarepairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. France/ Ireland

Prompt: Accidental Pregnancy with Transman Ireland, human AU

 

His hands were shaking, looking at the test in his fingers. It was an utter shock to him, and he wished to cry. Aaron was sitting on the toilet set, holding a pregnancy test in his too feminine hands, his eyes watering, looking at the little plus, in the circle. Obviously it was a mistake, men couldn't conceive. They didn't have what it took to bear a child, to give nutrition and to nuture the tiny body that would grow within their body.

Trans men could, however. That fact drew pain into his heart, and he closed his eyes. It was then that the tears started to fall, his head tipping back, his body shaking slightly. How would he tell Francis? How would his lover respond to having a child? How would he act with the fact a child was forming In his body, a child of both their seed, one neither of them have ever had before. It was an experience that Aaron never had fathomed having to interact with, never having to care about, nothing could have prepared him for the issue of his body betraying him to the point he would have a life to keep within him.

A knock came from the door of the bathroom, just before it opened. The test managed to be hidden, however disgustingly, under his thigh. Yet, with the lack of time to prepare, he was unable to adjust his appearence, and Francis was nearly immediately on his knees, infront of him, hands on his knew and cheek.

"Aaron," he heard, whispered, and moved to cup his chin, gently rubbing his lower lip with his thumb. "My sweet, what is wrong?" His waterlogged eyes moved to meet the sparkling blue of Francis, and the tears only increased, until he threw himself into the other's arms. It was painful, to know the possibility of loosing him, of this being his last time to hold him, the only time he would ever feel this love. Arms were wrapped around him, and the feeling threw a rush of warmth through him, until he felt Francis stiffen, obviously having spotted the test.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into Francis's ear, tensing, preparing for the blow that would land and push his lover away, force him to take all the love he had offered in the past and throw it out, to leave him, at last. It was a matter that would end him, that would end them.

"Why?" He heard, half breathed into his ear, the word tinged with nearly wonderment.

"I... I'm pregnant," was the horse reply, before he finished the litney of ideas in his mind. "And I can't be your lover, I can't be... male, with a child growing in me." The tears were now staining Francis's shirt, and he sobbed after a second.

"You're actually pregnant?"

"Aye."

"Why would I leave you, then?" The arms around him tightened, pulling him closer, as his back was rubbed. "You're the best thing I've come across. I'm sorry that you don't know that."

"But I cannot be a man, not now, Francis."

"But you are still my love. No, you're not my lover, but I do not care about that." He kissed his neck, softly, before standing, and pulling him up. "We need to do some research into this, however."

"You're... not revolted by me?"

"No. How could I ever be?"

Because I'm not what you fell in love with."

"Yes you are. Just... a different aspect of you, is all."

"Francis, you don't need to stay if you do not wish to."

"Good thing I do. I want to raise a child with you, as two husbands should. Or, hopefully, will, one day." He moved to kiss the engagement ring, with a faint smile. "We need to put this on the back burner. But we will return to our wedding, one day. One day soon." He took his chin gently into his hand, and kissed him sweetly. His tears were gone, by this point. "For now, we need to make sure you are alright, completely."


	2. France/ 2p America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis and Al (2P America), Human AU, where Francis died of Cancer.

Their years had been cut short, that much Allen was willing to completely answer to, to attest to… To mourn. He knew that there was no getting back his lover, in any way. He was well aware of the fact he was going to have to mourn or move on, one sooner than the other. He just wished it was something else, something that meant that Francis hadn’t withheld the truth from him. He knew that he would be grasping at the barest of straws, were he to try that, and he knew that there was little to nothing he would be able to properly do. He had to last with the horrible fact he had not noticed that his lover had been getting more and more frail, the fact that he was unable to have helped his lover, the fact that he had been unaware of it all, the fact that he had completely ignored the fact that Francis had been terminal, all the last few years. He knew that he wasn’t going to find someone like Francis.

He wasn’t going to find another man, or even a woman, who could fit against his body so well, in bed that he hardly had noticed where he ended and Francis began. He wasn’t going to find someone who would be able to wake him up with the perfect feelings of kisses and bites, a light waking of love and tenderness. He knew that he wasn’t going to find someone who would wake early enough to make coffee, and stay up late enough to paint his sleeping form, just because the moonlight had caught his pale skin, just right. He still had those canvases, the perfect, beautiful shapes of the strokes, the nearly indecipherable from real life.

His eyes couldn’t see the cold, grey marble in front of him. He could only think of the instances. now. that showed him everything wasn’t alright with Francis.

The mornings he would wake up to find Francis in the bathroom, puking. The times he would close his eyes, showing him being more tired than what was normal for his job. The times that he wouldn’t allow Allen to accompany him somewhere. The pill bottles he saw in the trash, and that Francis lied over. The times he would brush his long blonde hair, and see clumps of the strands in the bristles. The times they would shower together, and Allen would pull out more hair than what was normal for him. No, he knew that those were all signs he was was too blind to see. Signs that he hadn’t wanted to see. Things that showed the frailty of his lover, his other half, the only one he knew he would be happy with… He had completely ignored. He didn’t want to lose the one good thing in his very shitty life.

However, he was now on his knees, in front of the freshly turned dirt, his hands over his eyes, keeping in his tears, or trying to. It was so heavy that it was to the point he wasn’t aware of the body that walked up next to him. Small as the body was, he knew who it was; it was his son, his and Francis’s son, Matthew. He knew that he had to take care of the boy, yet it was hard to, as he was unable to see two feet in front of him. Yet, that changed, as his son wrapped his arms around his neck, and tried to hug him.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” He half cried. After all, he wasn’t someone to cry too much, too hard, too often. “Where’s papa?” THere was no answer he would be able to give that didn’t end in tears, and so he simply didn’t answer. He was saved when his father walked over, and carefully wrapped his arms around them both.

“Your papa is on a vacation.”

“Then why is daddy crying?”

“Because… Because he misses him already.”

“Don’t worry, daddy! Papa will come home soon.” Those words didn’t help him at all, only forcing more tears out of his eyes, with the knowledge that he wasn’t actually coming back to them. His arms wrapped around his son, keeping him close. Oliver gently rubbed his back, until he pressed his face into his shoulder. He remembered the last moments with his beloved, resting with Francis in his arms, getting ready for them to fall asleep, quickly. He didn’t sleep, that night, however, watching as his lover descended into a sleep he wouldn’t wake from. Those thoughts killed him, really, and he wanted to be six feet under, with Francis. His lover, his one and only. His only, and he had lost him.

The only one person that Allen had ever gotten, the one person he had ever loved with every fiber of his being, and he was ripped away, ripped away so quickly, so easily, leaving Allen with an empty bed, and a broken heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a rarepair? Suggest it in the Comments!  
> Don't have a rarepair? Please leave comments, critiques, anything that's wrong or right, in the comments!


	3. Veggie Burgers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al is bugging Alfred for attention, Alfred caves

Al wasn’t always sure of his relationship with his other half. However, the entire description of their relationship was perfectly in sync; they knew every single piece of the other’s history, they knew everything that they were able to know, and if their descriptions were anything more than just words, they were the image.

It was that thought that was urging him onto this action, if he was honest. He wanted to have the attention of Alfred, who so normally would cling to his own body. A reversal of roles, you could say, with how Al was now clinging onto Alfred. They were on the sofa, with Alfred playing some stupid game on his phone. However, that much didn’t matter to Allen, as he was playing with the fingers on his free hand. It was a simple action from him, such a small, comforting gesture that he was used to doing.

It was a bit annoying to Alfred, but he was just a bit too caught up to actually say anything against his actions. He didn’t care enough for that, to make his lover stop. It was too comforting for him to stop. Even if it was normally him that did the actions that Allen was.

Alfred was a pretty good actor, he liked to feign. From when he would use his puppy dog eyes on Arthur, to now, he was more than apt at getting what he desired to get from who he wanted it from. Normally, that was attention from Allen, but now, it was for Allen to get desperate enough to do something even more extreme than just playing with his fingers. He wasn’t expecting anything too severe to happen, even still, and that was the stop that he completely failed at. It was just when he was thinking that he would be perfectly fine, and he wouldn’t be able to get his love to that point that Allen struck. Instead of stopping with his ministrations, he merely moved to Alfred’s Lap, without a second thought. He moved to wrap his arms around his neck, and his legs around his waist, pulling him close, sighing softly. With the change of actions, he knew something was wrong, and he turned off his phone. It was a simple action that easily was done, and he pulled him close.

"You alright, Al?" He questioned, moving to rest his head against the other's shoulder. A small head shake was his only answer, forcing a burst of worry to sprout in his chest. "What's wrong?" The arms around him tightened slightly, pulling them flush. His initial reaction was to pull him even closer, feeling for something that would indicate if he was injured in some way or another. There were none, physically, which placated Alfred for just a moment. He soon realized it was more of an emotional break that was causing the actions, and soon he started to place gentle kisses along his skin, rubbing his back. The tension left his body, slowly, radiating out from his body, to help with Alfred's own tensing.

"I'm sorry," Allen whispered, moving his face to Alfred's neck, pressing at the apex of his neck and shoulder. The contact was something that comforted him, it seemed, and Alfred continued with his small kisses. It was simple movements, simple kisses that he offered, but it was more so that he was offering the touches and reassurance.

“Nah,” He whispered, moving to cup his cheek. “I’m happy to hold you, Allen.” The words were half whispered, but they were all soothingly whispered into his second player’s ear. “You’re important to me, and I want you to feel that way.” Allen couldn’t help his smile, then, and pressed closer against his neck, to hide his lips. The thoughts that were clouding his mind was slowly rushing away, and he knew that the ability to stay this way was going to last a while. If there was one person in his life that he trusted without a second thought, it was Alfred.

However, even being held in his arms was a bit hard for him to completely accept, considering his upbringing. Though it had been relatively good, he still had the issues with the fact that he didn’t ever get affection. It wasn’t as though he was completely unable to accept it, it was just that he wasn’t as able to, as the others would be able to accept. He knew that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, he just had not been able to have such a connection as what was needed, like a father would have been.

Allen closed his eyes, trying to continue to smell his lover, let the scent calm him down, something that would calm him down, somehow. He didn’t know how, not exactly. He could feel a hand on his back, however, pulling him closer, pressing him closer, before moving to lay Allen and him down on the sofa, pulling him closer.

“You okay, Allen?” Alfred questioned, moving to brush back some of his red hair, and moving to pull him closer.

“Yeah,” He managed, in a voice that was obviously not alright. That wasn’t stopping him, however, from feeling a couple tears falling, and his eyes closed, unable to help the feeling of hot tears streaking down his cheeks. Alfred took just a second before moving to press Allen into the sofa a bit tighter, and taking his hand.

“Don’t worry, Allen,” Alfred whispered, and used his other hand to pull him to his chest, keeping him close.

They don’t know when they fell asleep, but it was slow, and when they woke, they were still together, holding and trying to be happy, in some way, in some form. It was just too much for them, sometimes, and they both knew it. But, they’d always be there for each other, no matter what happened. They were both America, after all and they needed to be there for each other.


	4. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amebel Please don’t flirt with people I secretly like it’s rude and disrespectful

It seemed that the only one who didn’t realize that Alfred had a crush on Natalya was the woman herself. However, as if to spite the nation, the superpower, the other nations always teased around flirting, showing just the barest of romance with the woman, enough to get Alfred’s blood boiling. Francis was the most confident at it, always managing to get her to just the barest spot of a blush, yet it always was pushed off with a flick of her beautiful blond hair, and a half roll of her crystalline eyes. It didn’t matter to Francis, he would just start up at it the next day.

Alfred hated it. He wanted to have Natalya to himself, to allow her in his arms, to pull her close, to hold her. He knew that the probability that he would was actually very low, but he wanted it to be a reality. In fact, it was to the point that he had taken slammed the french nation to the wall, his hands tight on the lapels of his coat, his hands tight enough that he knew he was stretching the fabric. However, that didn’t matter too much to him; he was going to warn Francis away from his possibly future lover.

“Don’t,” Alfred half whispered, looking at the man he had pinned to the wall. “Don’t flirt with her again, France.” His words tingled on anger, but his words were low. His eyes had darkened, the stars nearly faded away, showing his nearly murderous intent. “I won’t allow her to be with you. I don’t think…” His head bowed, his eyes closing. “I couldn’t stand the fact of you two being together.” It would mean he wouldn’t be able to have gotten her, he wouldn’t have been able to woo her, to actually find out if she loved him in turn.

“Alfred,” Francis whispered, softly, cupping his cheek in a fatherly way, unable to help the feelings of worry in his chest, seeing him. “I won’t, I promise.” Francis was then let go, and he really wasn’t able to go fast enough. It wasn’t as though Alfred was a docile nation; he had nearly killed Kiku at one point.

Alfred moved his hands to the wall, panting softly, his heart still racing, the anger still pounding in his ears. It only took him punching through the wall to calm it down enough, and it was only then that he noticed the soft clapping. He half spun around, blue eyes sharp and unyielding, a mixture between fire and ice.

“You should think of asking me before you try to hurt another person, Alfred.” Her eyes didn’t burn as she looked at him, but smoldered, and her thin lips were wet by her tongue. “Or, before you try to.” Her head shook, and she looked up at him again.

“Natalya,” He half breathed, an indescribable feeling in his chest.

“Da?”

“Can I... “ He looked to the side for a second, before looking her right in the eyes again “Will you accept me as your partner?” He moved along the hall, his eyes relatively hard as he watched the other.

He saw her lips part for a second, until she whispered instructions for him.

“Kiss me, Alfred.”

It only took him a few seconds to cross the hall, grab her around the waist, and pull her into a deep kiss, bending her back a bit, and using his strength in it. It was only a few moments before he pulled away again, and looked at her. “Will you?”

“Yes, you idiot.” Her hands were on the lapels of his coat, and she pulled him closer. “Now kiss me again.” It didn't even take that much to make him start to kiss her again, pressing to the wall, molding their bodies together.

****  



	5. Emgmano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secret dating with Engmano. For cactus_bloom

It wasn’t as though it would be too surprising for either of them to be together. Their countries had relatively good relations, and they were both similar in tastes. Both of the contrite, both of them worried over the perception that people would have of them, and both socially inept. They only just managed to keep themselves together, really, with their similarities. Both could cling to the other, both tried to push away those who got close to them. Arthur was better, yet Lovino seemed to have more of a harsh way of doing it.

Even still, they never left the other for too long. It was as though a magnet continually pulled them together, and they always sort of fell together, with their arms around the other, to the bed, to the sofa, to anywhere marginally horizontal and comfortable.

It just so happened that today, they weren’t at home all, but instead at a cafe in Britain. If anyone they knew would appear, it was less likely that it would happen at Arthur’s home, instead of at Lovino’s. They knew that they shouldn’t be seen in public too terribly much, yet Arthur was tired of hiding it just now. They were sitting with a hand laced with the other’s, eyes Arthur’s eyes closed, and Lovino’s watching him. Logically, they should have been speaking Italian, or something else, yet England wasn’t fluent enough for that. He didn’t want to have to deal with the fact he’d stumble over words, and most likely cuss. He just wanted to have the other with him.

His eyes opened after a moment, then, to look at his lover.

“Thank you,” He murmured, not wanting to let this go without acknowledgement. They were both here for the other, when they needed it, yet they both felt that they needed to give more than anything, more than ever for them. “Thank you for indulging me in this.”

Lovino offered a small smile, and pulled his hand close, kissing his knuckles. There was an element of romance in him, as he was one of Italy. They were close to France, to Spain, all the romance languages. Even still, Lovino wasn’t the best at showing that aspect of himself. His brother was the better one with those gestures. He took his hand from Arthur’s, and started to kiss the tips of his fingers. A simple motion, yet one that brought out a fine blush to his cheeks.

“I’m glad to have come,” He replied, after a few moments of kissing his fingers, and he smiled at him. There was an element of joy in him, shining in his eyes, and he couldn’t help to lean forward and kiss Arthur, just for a moment. Seeing the beautiful look in his eyes was breathtaking, the look of wanting more still there. Arthur was one that did not exactly look perfect, but was perfect in his ways that made Lovino smile and want to hold him tightly to his chest.

They knew that they wouldn’t have to worry just yet, about anything, being near each other. Lovino sat down slowly, watching him, letting their eyes stay close, meeting in an intimate way.It was all but actually making love, but it showed the depth of their feeligns for each other, and deep they were.

Arthur was unable to keep the contact any longer, and he looked down, to his tea. He wished that he was able to keep his eyes on Lovino, yet he just wasn’t strong enough.

“Arthur,” He whispered, forcing him to look up, to meet his eyes. “I love you.” He felt his breath catch, unable to help the automatic clench.

“I love you, too, Lovino,” He whispered in return, before grabbing his hand tighter.

He felt the perfect warmth in his chest, seeing his lover across from him. His hand fell down, onto the table, as the other held his hand gently.

“I don’t want us to end,” He murmured, before moving around the table, and pulling Lovino into his arms. “Never.” The words half caught in his throat, and he tried to swallow a little around the lump.

“Me either. Even if people find out, I don’t want us to end, I always wish to stay here…”

“Arthur?” The two men stiffened, hearing the much too familiar voice. Of all the people to have come here, it was Alfred, the American nation.

“Alfred?” Arthur replied, pulling away from Lovino, to turn to him, his body stiff. Lovino merely moved to place a hand at his lower back, rubbing a circle into his lower back.

“What’s… What’s going on?”

“Lovino and I were having tea, that’s all.” His blue eyes looked from green to brown, unsure. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to concern yourself with.” He knew his body hardened at that, and Arthur swallowed.

“You’re dating each other, right? Oh, man, I can’t wait to tell France. He’s going to be happy; He promised I’d get him if you did something like this…” He laughed a little, and moved closer, extending an envelope to him, obviously a bit important. “Make sure to give this to your Minister; I need to talk with Barack to make sure this is all proper.” He chuckled again, and started to leave.

Lovino waited until Alfred was gone to speak.

“That wasn’t expected.”

“No, and this isn't’ secret.”

He felt his eyes prickle with tears, and he leaned closer to Lovino, pressing his face to his shoulder, with a half sob, ignoring the people around them.

“It’s alright, Arthur. We’ll still be together, and they can’t change that.” He kissed his head, softly, and held him tightly. “We’ll still be together. I promise.”


	6. Art and science

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> France and 2p Russia. Middle/Highschool AU.

Francis was always a teen who was sauve. When he was younger, he always wanted to impress the other boys and girls, and he often did do so, without a second issue. There was only a few people he had never been able to crack. One was Viktor, and his cousin, Natalya. Even still, Francis wasn’t as interested in Natalya. She had clearly said no to him, and it took him only a few days for him to decide that he wanted to try and completely try and take Viktor. It was rumoured that he was interested in men as well as women, and he tried to hide such things, preferring to not talk to either, when he was offered the chance. It was mostly a decision of his own, though the other students seemed to have a part in it.

Francis didn’t care what his exact label was, so long as it included men. He wouldn’t approach him if he was not interested, as that would be a waste of everyone’s time, Francis’s included. Even still, he was rumoured that it was alright, and so the chase ensued.

IT was simple things initially, with Francis offering to be apart of his groups, offering to help him in subjects that he had a hard time on, and the likes. Generally, he was turned down, though that didn’t stop him from trying. It was instances where he was with Viktor that he found his heart would beat in ways he never had felt before. He wanted to feel it over and over again, enough to kill him, if that was what it took to kepe him.

The Russian never seemed to want to help with him, however, and still, Francis tried.

He always tried, and it was a day that the art class was out doing some real life sketches, as Viktor was out for a biology lesson that the teacher decided to call out to him. Francis didn’t know if he was going to be able to concentrate, if the imposing man came over, and they ended up working on him, instead of flowers.

“Would you be willing to help me, and my class, Mr Ivanov?” The woman smiled at him,a nd though it was irrational, Francis felt his heart drop.

“I am in class. I really can’t be bothered enough to abandon that class.”

“I’ll make sure to talk it over with your teacher, and see if I can get you some extra credit in that class.” There was a lot of underhand dealings in this school, with some of the teachers. Francis always ignored it, and he started to draw, not focusing upon anything, looking about the area, and settling on sunflowers in the distance. It was only a sketch, for however long the teacher was going to take to get Viktor to stay. He knew that she would manage it, no matter what. She was very persistant, after all.

It only took a couple minutes, and the senior had managed to completely finish his sketch, with beautifully perfect scribbles.

“Class, attention, please.” It was all it took for everyone to look up, without a second though. There had been some conversation, and it halted. “We are going to have a human sketch today, Mr Ivanov. I don’t expect perfection, but I do expect effort. No erasing of lines, and I do expect that to be followed without a second thought to the look of the sketch.” After a few more instructions, Francis was working away, looking intently at Viktor. After a few moments of memorizing his shape, he started to sketch him with long lines, though they were certainly firm. Perhaps a little bit too firm, if he thought it over. Yet, he knew that the other man was full of firm lines and hard contradictions. It was the shapes that Francis wanted to be held by.

Viktor had been looking at the sunflowers, when Francis had been memorizing him, and it seemed he looked away just at the perfect time for him to Viktor to take his turn of studying him. Soft lines, firm, meshed information. He didn’t say a word, looking at the curve of his cheek, seeing some faint scars from acne, and the perfect curve of his locks. He hardly even noticed when his eyes were on him again, until he heard a small gasp. It was only a couple seconds before Viktor realized that it was Francis, and he looked away again, with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Fifteen minutes left.”

Francis looked at the muse, studying him. There was similarities with him and his cousins, yet there were obviously not siblings. Francis let his pencil work without too much looking, caressing his face in the only way he could manage. He was fully aware that he was never going to manage too much more than just the placement of his pencil along his face, the tracing of his profile to paper.

His blue eyes looked down from the dark purple eyes, as soon as they met. He started to study the other aspects of the man, and slap them on, from his hands to his legs, finishing it with ease.

Bodies were easy; faces were harder. Francis just wished that he didn’t have Viktor’s memorized. It wasn’t the most normal thing for someone to think, for someone to have such a feature perfect, in their mind, able to conjure it in the dark of night, in the times he needed more than just his hand to finish, in times he needed to think of more taboo things than just a woman he wasn’t with. Francis wanted Viktor, that much he was completely aware of. He wanted to feel the coarse, thick locks in his hand as his other gripped his back, allowing Viktor to take what he wanted, as he freely allowed it.

Francis knew that his desires would forever be unfulfilled, and to dream of them was to torture his mind, to tantalize his feelings, to crave that which he was unable to realize, not ever properly realize.

The frenchman shaded a few places, waiting for the last five minutes to finish. He could feel eyes on him, and he wanted to much to look up into the dark eyes, to allow a more proper memorization of the man he had just sketched, but he knew that if he did allow himself to look up again, he would crave something more, something more than just eye contact. Francis wanted to have the man pressing him to a wall, to a sofa, anything than the space between them. Francis wanted to feel the pressure of the man across from him, allowing the reassurance that he so craved.

He was assuming it wasn’t going to be realized, however, standing up when the teacher asked them all to leave, thanking the Russian.

He figured it was at last time to move on from Viktor, as his pinning wasn’t going to help, at all.

“Francis.” He turned to the sound of his name, to see the Russian student falling into his step.

“Bonjour, Viktor,” He greeted, looking back at the floor, walking along.

“Are you free after school?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” They walked for a few moments, before he spoke again.

“Why?”

“I want you to wait for me, alright?” He looked over at Francis, and he found the other teen looking back at him, with a curious look.

“Alright.”

With a nod, Viktor was off, leaving Francis just a few feet from his locker.

 

After school, Francis was at his locker, packing his bag, just a s normal. He always had to wait a little bit longer, to bring his younger brother, Matthew, home, so the little bit of a wait wasn’t that much of an issue. He sat down in front of his locker, waiting for Viktor to arrive, and he started to type up a paper, on his laptop. He breathed normally, being careful through it all, not wanting to go back and type through it again.

It was when he was in the middle of the second paragraph that he looked up, seeing feet in front  of him.

“Viktor…” He hastily closed his laptop, and stood up, his head back just a little, to look him in the eyes. “Why did you ask me to wait here for you?”

“I wanted to…” The russian man waited a moment, before moving to press Francis to the wall of Lockers, forcing the frenchman to inhale sharply in complete surprise. “Do this…” Though there were rules against it, the Russian didn’t care, and kissed him, pressing their lips together for a moment, his hand moving to Francis’s hair. After a moment, they broke for breath, and Francis looked up at him in wonder.

“You just had to ask.”

“I thought I just did.” Francis offered a small smile over that, and moved closer, giving him a small kiss, wrapping his arms around him.

“Yeah. You did.”


	7. Words, rain, and secrets held.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ★ five times Francis though Yao looked breath-taking, and the one time he voice it.

Louis XIV of france was the one who had sent him. It was just a temporary thing, the maximum of a year for them to go, and arrive back. He was with three or four others, and he would admit, even with the men with him, he didn’t care that he stopped, as soon as he saw the newest nation that he had ever seen. A beautiful man, so lovely fit in his outfit, was the one that he was looking upon, his eyes darker than his hair, it seemed, his appearance perfect in nearly every way that Francis would want. It only took a moment for him to be broken out of his trance, however, and a small blush appeared upon his cheeks. 

The next time was when they had been trading silks with the other. With France as the center for their trading with the, then, western world, it was natural for Yao to show up at his house, to see what the man lived like. A lavish lifestyle, yet the most beautiful was the man standing next to him in his chambers, overlooking the city. The beauty he was so used to was ignored in favour of the dark eyes, the lustrous hair, every single thing about him. Yet, his eyes turned away, looking out at the city, knowing the consequences for the feelings in his chest. 

When Michel Sin arrived in France after visiting Rome, the nation once again arrived in Paris, for a much shorter trip. It had been raining heavily, and his carriage was caught in the mud. Instead of waiting for his people to go to the nearest inn, and get something to help, he merely walked the entirety of the distance to the castle in Paris. His long hair was streamed back against his back, plastered in rivlets against his face, and Francis had been noted nearly immediately. So, he had the other nation brought to his room, and it only took him a few minutes to arrive to see him drying off. The look he saw on his face was so perfectly beautiful that his breath literally caught in his breath, but he pushed past it, to see the urgent matters that the other man had needed to bring to his attention. 

The next time wast  Treaty of Whampoa. It was unfair, and Francis was completely aware of it. He wished that there was not something like that, yet he knew that at the time, money was much more important, to both France, and their major opponent, Great Britain. He had seen China only for a moment, yet that moment was enough to make his breath stop. He was nearly too regal for his own good, and that was what really killed his mind, what took the final straw from him, what ripped the carpet from under his feet. He was nearly too beautiful for Francis, the nation of beauty. 

The last major time he ever held his tongue on the matter, was when they were at war. The Quin dynasty was one that was more than a bit powerful, a lovely, beautiful time that stretched over nearly four centries. Over this all, he was more than a bit stupid, knowing that this would end up ending with poor relations and bad blood with all the men, yet that didn’t matter at the time that Francis was fighting the Asian. No, not really. However, he saw the man, beautiful, in battle, and he couldn’t help the breath taken from his lips, his long hair tied back, his eyes burning with hatred. He knew that he wasn’t going to be forgiven for this, but that matter wasn’t too important, just yet. No, it was the view of him, just how beautiful he was, that was catching his breath, that was making him pause in a blow. It was then that he wished he was allowed to speak his mind, and pull all his people back, though he knew his king would never allow that. 

The one time he didn’t allow his mind to catch his tongue was when Yao was coming to him, after a meeting. He couldn’t help the fact that he grabbed his wrist, firmly, yet not too tightly, and stopped him. “Yao,” He said, his eyes pleeding to be believed, “You are honestly the most gorgeous person I have ever seen. That much I promise you, that much I swear… You are nearly too beautiful for me to look upon; I have always thought so.”


	8. Five times Kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fraus;; Five times they kissed.

“You may kiss your bride,” The minister spoke, and Francis watched as he saw his king kissed his new bride. Though there was some unrest in the kingdom, they didn’t care. They were in the Church, with the nations off in the side. They were required to be there, yet they were not allowed to be seen too much. They were even on the same side, with the view on the couple. Francis knew that there was one of two ways the motion he was going to take could take.   
That was what he was thinking, but he didn’t care as much about that fact. So, he moved to kiss Rodrich, after a moment. It was sweet, and he only did so with a small pressure on his lips.   
“I don’t mind if I do,” He whispered, to the blush of Rodrich. 

  
“Our leaders are asleep,” Francis said, walking into the newly shared room between the two men.   
“I hope they sleep well. They need that, with the unrest that is appearing in your people.”   
“I do not know when I will be able to calm my people,” Francis said. He knew just how bad they were, as there was a heightened level of anxiety in his body. Normally there was just a small amount, but the difference of the nobles and the poor, from the marriage to hunger, it forced more from him.   
It was more of a feeling than anything else, when Roderich moved behind him. Arms wrapped around his waist, and his breath shook upon exhaling. A small, tentative kiss was placed upon his back, and Francis shivered lightly. He loved the feeling of small kisses, but these were ones that were meant just for him. They held more than anything else had, and there was no way he’d ever say no to what Roderich asked for.   
“Merci,” He whispered, and felt the arms move tighter around him.   
“Of course.”

  
It was time for their first time to lay together. Francis held his hand, and pulled him just a bit closer, kissing the man slowly. He wanted to let Roderich know just how much he wanted to love him. He knew, however, even as their lips touched softly, it wasn’t going to be, that Roderich didn’t want him.   
They didn’t have sex that night. 

  
Time had passed since that night, until the new year. Francis looked up at the ceiling, before looking down. There was a countdown, and the nation’s were all at the same party. There were two long, strong fingers that took his chin, and forced him to kiss someone, and he didn’t know who at first. It was soon that they pulled away, and he saw it was Roderich.  
“I… I missed your kiss.” 

There was little to no contact for the rest of that century, until after the great wars, and Francis was at last back at his normal, loving self. Rodrich showed up at a meeting, just as Francis did, for once. Being one of the last ones, they weren’t too notice, oddly. But, Francis didn’t pause to think, and cupped his cheek, pressing a kiss to his lips.   
“I missed your kisses as well.”


	9. Belarus/ Belgium/ Hungary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddling, joking, being happy

The three were on the sofa, and even Natalia was smiling. Mostly because the two more bubbly of the three were focusing mostly on her, and it did make her feel loved. They were kissing her, and holding her, and murmuring sweet nothings, all of it perfect, absolutely perfect for her. It was better than when she had been pining for her brother, as these two actually wanted to touch and hold her, wanted to take her hands and keep her close. She could feel the warmth from their hands, one strong, one soft. 

The movie that was on was in English, the one language they were able to all understand, however slimmly. They were all learning the other’s languages, but it wasn’t time for them to work on those. No, it was time for them all to be holding onto the others, to arasses and keep close. Natalya was the center, and though it often was others, she was never going to make them stop with force. They were able to bring a blush up to her cheeks, to make her feel happy without reservations, and to make her blush with just the smallest of prompts. 

There were fingers on her eyelids, and she bit her lip. It had to be Elizabeth, the fingers were slightly chapped, and just a little hard, and the trust that was being given over, so freely, was nearly enough for the woman to breathe just slightly hard. Emma moved a finger along her neck, and there was a harsh breath out, her hands gently grasping at nothing. She didn’t want to make them stop, but the pressure on her was getting too much. She was a naturally secretive person, and though they had tried to tear those boarders down, she always managed to build them back up. It was not that she didn’t trust them, but the fact she had never managed to show anyone the full extent of her emotions. Her body wasn’t the only thing that was cold, and she never wanted the other two women to feel the ice around her heart, even as she was letting certain moments melt it. 

The tears that started to escape moved the other women to kiss her cheeks, a hand moving to her side, another to her jaw, just far enough it went to her pale hair, then one was at her hip, and her face was brought to a shoulder. An inhale confirmed it to be Belgium, as she had a sweeter scent than Elizabeth. Emma smelled like flowers and sweets, and Eliza smelled of the earth, of just a hint of blood, and the sweet scent of fresh sweat, usually. It seemed that it never even dried, never crusted, never turned disgusting. Perhaps it was just another scent that Nat was confusing it for, or perhaps a multitude of scents. Regardless, it was her, and now, she was smelling something much fresher, sweeter, and she moved a hand to each of their backs. 

“I’m sorry,” she managed, and it was soon enough that she was once again alright, breathing normally, and she offered a small smile to her loves. 

“It’s okay, Tash,” Emma said, and Elizabeth smiled, before moving to kiss her forehead. 

“You need never apologize to us. We know what is wrong, and we’re alright with it.” A small laugh came from her, and she moved her head to Elizabeth’s shoulder, for just a moment, before moving to kiss her gently on the lips for a moment. After a pull away, she offered a smile to them both, small, but what she normally gave. Her hair fell over her face some, and Emma moved it back, moving to kiss her nose. 

A bit of situating later, and Nat was on Emma’s lap, with Hungary right next to her, Nat’s feet on her lap. A breath, and she reclined on Emma, before moving her face to her neck. It didn’t last as cute as it was, however, when she felt Eliza moving her hands down her legs, to her feet. She was not the most ticklish, but she was certainly so. She figured it out nearly as soon as it started, and Emma had her arms held, and her peels of laughter started in the room, soon followed with some tears of laughter, as she tried to get out of the hold, and she tried to get away. 

“Only for a kiss!” Emma said, and Eliza pipped up, then. 

“To us both!” 

“Alright! Alright, I shall!” Her kiss aimed at Emma first, and Eliza only continued tickling her, to the point it was just Nat laughing against Emma’s lips, causing Emma to start and tickle her sides, knowing her legs were enough to keep her. It stayed that way until she was out of breath, and she then had her lips taken by Emma, kissing her even worse, until there was a bit of black around the edges of her vision, and she was finally allowed a breath of fresh air. 

“You two are going to pay for this, you know,” she said, in between gasps. 

“We’re looking forward to it.”

“Tonight?”

“Of course you two would want to have it tonight.” She sighed softly, but there was a smile on her lips. It was just a ruse, really, for her to make such jokes. She loved the two women with a bit of a passion, and as she moved close to them, she thought, ‘Yes. I could do this for some time.’


	10. Russia/ Italy Romano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SEMI-SERIOUS PLAYFIGHTS THAT END WITH ONE PERSON PINNED TO THE FLOOR/WALL AND ACCIDENTAL FURIOUS KISSING THO

They had been in Romano’s house, for once. Russia was supposed to be leaving the man alone, after they were caught on his boss’s desk, doing something very intimate. However, that didn’t matter too much to the southern nation, who was able to see his lover in little to no clothing, his scarf off for once, his beautiful violent eyes on the ground, for now. Romano had an idea that, though slightly wicked, was going to possibly end up cutely.

So, that was why he was moving to tackle his lover, to the dirt, ad he played with some small wildflowers. There was something that Romano hadn’t counted on, and that was the speed of which the larger could move with. It only took a moment for Romano to be pinned to the ground, thankfully, without his arms being caught. He was only held lightly by his shoulders, one of the Russian’s legs between his thighs, and their breathing just slightly hard.

It only took Lovino a moment, however, to switch them to that Russia was under him, his thighs now on either side of his hips. The competition continued for a few moments, until Lovino was completely pinned by Ivan. So, he did the only thing he could think do to: he leaned up and kissed Ivan, using that last bit of his strength to fight.

It didn’t work as he had wanted, however, as Ivan took control of it easily, until he started to war with him, trying to invade his mouth. A hand went from his wrist to his cheek, and Lovino moved a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, holding it until he was breathless and begging for air, and he didn’t stop. Ivan did, however, unable to control his gasps for air.

“You idiot,” Lovino muttered. “I was supposed to win.”


	11. ScotFra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW Scotland and France, just a drabble

Francis couldn't feel anything but pleasure. His eyes were closed, his hands grasping onto the sheets as well as he could. Of course, that wasn't too well, and his nails continually were nearly ripping the fabric. Neither he, nor Allistor cared. The feelings that they were producing From each other was enough to push apart any other worries. Their bodies were perfectly in sync, with Francis moaning out just after he was thrusted into, each exhale of Allistor was coupled with an inhale of Francis. It had just hardly been agreed upon that they would try something new, something that Francis had read about, had tried once before with a lover, yet it had failed. Francis blamed the fact on him having been a human, and not nearly as skilled as Francis. So, he was mostly assuming that the skill he needed was within the other nation. That is, self control. 

 

Francis shivered, unable to help the physical show of just how pleasurable the feeling was. After a second, he moaned out the other's name, mostly a curl of sound. He knew they were both nearly to their limits, and it was at perfect timing. 

 

"Now?" He whispered, his body shaking with the effort he was still putting forth.

 

"Yes," Francis half hissed, and mere seconds passed before they felt their orgasms curl at the base of their spines, and wash through their bodies, Francis finishing first. His tired muscles didn’t manage to clench too terribly hard, and he knew his entire body was awash with the perfect glow of the pleasure of his orgasm. 

 

He felt Allistor finish inside him, and he weakly shivered. He felt the other nation fall onto him, still deeply inside him. 

 

“Je t'aime,” He whispered, weak still. Francis moved his leg around Allistor, keeping him close. “Thank you…” Francis tightened around him a little, or tried to. He found he wasn't able to, the feeling of cum, and his love inside him, too much inside him. Francis pulled the other closer, wrapping his arms around his neck, with a small sigh. 

  
“Course. I'd be a poor lover if I didn't do this.” Francis pressed closer to him with a smile, until he pulled out. It took just a moment for them to move together, Francis in Allistor’s arms, tightly. Francis could feel a smile on his lips after that, and pulled closer to the other, before kissing him gently. There was a bit of a grin from the Scot, and a kiss onto Francis’s head. This was heaven to both, that much they were able to completely concur on. 


	12. France/ Nyo!France

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW  
> Five times they almost sexted, one time they did.

In the last decade, Marianne had tried to take Francis as a lover many times. Every time, he would say the same thing- Not yet. She was trying a new method, this time. 

 

Every year, she would send a new one. Francis kept all of them, though he never returned them. All were breathtaking, her pale body shown in perfect relief. 

 

Her pattern had not been set the first year, and she sent a few at once, all perfect. The first was her in bed, a view up her body, with just a few curls of her pubic hair showing. It certainly aroused him, and even as he knew she currently wasn't that exposed, he could feel himself hardening in his slacks. The view of her perfect stomach, the light hairs just making it into the shot. 

 

His eyes clicked uo to her, just across the table. His phone buzzed, another being seen. It was just her, just in her pirate shirt. He had not an idea how she had gotten it, but seeing it was perfection. Upon zooming in on her hips, he saw a little wet spot between her legs, on the sheets, and he could tell she'd gotten off already. A deep desire started, going through him, straight to his cock. A few more came in. All just as desirable as the last. Finally, he gained control of himself enough to text back. 

 

[Text] Not yet. 

 

It was the following year. Francis wouldn't deny that he did have some photos of himself saved, just in case. He was not entirely sure if he wanted to send them to her, and if he had the courage, he supposed he would. 

 

The only one he got was a view of her, from above, her breasts spilling over her shirt. His finger hovered over the send button, before saving it under drafts. 

 

[Text] Not yet. 

 

The next year was in a coat he had given her, with just that and some panties, her nipples just covered. 

 

[Text] Not yet. 

 

She was getting better. Toys were easier to procure, and she was very good at aquiring them. She had one inside her, a very decent sized one, one Francis nearly measured up to.

 

[Text] Not yet. 

 

This was the last one he was going to get, he was sure of it. It had been done in another joint meeting, and Francis felt his cock sweet at the sight of her. She looked perfect, her hair spread out around her head, and her hands were bound between her breasts. The look of pure lust on her face would have turned a lesser man to jelly. 

 

Even still, he had to excuse himself from the meeting, to find a bathroom. In his haste, the door was left unlocked. His hand was fisted around his cock, and the lewd images were on his screen. 

 

She came into the bathroom, then, and they finished it with ease. 

 

“Not yet,” He whispered, after they were done. Of course, she frowned, and left soon after, fixing herself up quickly. It was the next day that he sent her a message, with a photo attached. 

 

It was of him, his cock in hand, in a gray scale, very artistic. 

 

[Text] Now. 


End file.
